


Family Motto

by JulisCaesar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family (Harry Potter), Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Patricide, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulisCaesar/pseuds/JulisCaesar
Summary: The Black motto might officially be "Toujours Pur", but Regulus hears another phrase much more often. "Once a Black, always a Black."





	Family Motto

“Once a Black, always a Black!” Uncle Cygnus roars at Bellatrix. “Getting betrothed doesn’t change that!”

Regulus—Reg, Reggie—is six and Bella is his terrifying sixteen year old cousin, still in school but definitely an adult in Reg’s mind. In her father’s mind too, apparently.

Bellatrix hisses something Reg can’t understand and stomps off. He’s already hiding behind the couch but tries to pull himself deeper. Bella and Uncle Cygnus are scary, and never more so than when they’re yelling at each other.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” Narcissa whispers into his ear.

Regulus doesn’t know why and pulls away. “I’m just getting Marked, Cissy, I’m not leaving the family.”

She lets him go. “He’s going to try and change you. It’s happening already with Lucius.”

Regulus, sixteen and full of family honour, scoffs. “He’s just a Malfoy. I’m a Black.”

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” his mother hisses, face red with rage.

Sirius has his wand drawn, but doesn’t seem willing—or able—to use it. “I thought you said Blacks didn’t become Gryffindors,” he spits back. His face is taught and drawn, but Regulus can see the joy in his eyes.

Reg, for his part, is sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to be seen. He so often is, these days, when Sirius fights with their parents.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” Bellatrix says sweetly to Andromeda.

Andromeda beams at her, looking like a real adult for once. “Then Ted will be a Black too, won’t he.”

Bellatrix snaps out a curse, but Andromeda deflects it and is gone.

Regulus has his shoulders up near his ears. “What if she picks the Mudblood?” he asks, too young, too weak.

“She won’t,” Bellatrix says, staring at the empty space. “She won’t.”

 

“Once a Black, always a Black.” His father ruffles his hair. “Sirius will inherit, but you’ll be there to support him, won’t you? Just like a Black should.”

At ten, Regulus already knows enough family stories to think that Black siblings fight more than support. But he also knows what happens when he disagrees with his father. “Yes, Father.”

Orion chuckles. “And in the event he’s not able to inherit…” He ruffles Regulus’s hair again. “Well, I’ve got a nice back up.”

There’ve been too many fights over where Sirius sorted for Reg to think this innocent planning. He holds still for the ruffling anyway. His father wouldn’t actually do that—would he?

 

“Once a Black,” Regulus starts, but his brother--his former brother slashes a hand angrily.

“She can have me back as myself or not at all,” Sirius spits. “You tell her that. I’m still a Black, whatever the damn tapestry says. She’ll have to come take that from me herself.”

Regulus, peacemaker, doesn’t tell his parents about their conversations in the hallways at Hogwarts. He knows better than to mention Sirius to their mother.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” Uncle Alphard’s last Howler shouts out before destroying itself in flame.

His mother curses the ashes anyway, while Regulus tries not to think about what this will mean for Sirius and how happy he is for his brother.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” the Dark Lord murmurs, his wand pointing at Regulus. “Is it possible you have a loyalty ahead of me?”

Regulus chokes, but shoves the explanations to the front of his mind anyway. “My parents—my mother—indoctrinated—my loyalty is to you first, my lord.”

“Of course it is,” the Dark Lord says, in a tone that reminds Regulus of knives in the night.

Of course it is. Regulus wouldn’t be so foolish as to think otherwise. Not in the presence of the Dark Lord.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” Bellatrix says, standing over Uncle Cygnus. “You told me that. And now you what, you think you can hand over my inheritance to a different line, just because I’m married?”

Uncle Cygnus doesn’t say a word.

Wise, Regulus thinks from the corner. Of course Bellatrix is doing this at a family gathering. He’s been to enough Death Eater meetings to know that she’s an absolute exhibitionist.

Uncle Cygnus screams. Regulus sits in a corner, and waits for it to be safe to leave.

 

Once a Black, always a Black, Regulus thinks, and tries to figure out if it applies to Black elves too. Kreacher is sick and almost dead, and he doesn’t know if Black retribution should come down on the one who did this to him.

It doesn’t help, he thinks with some wryness, that they’re both scared witless of the person in question.

But Kreacher has served the Blacks, has raised Regulus, and surely that deserves something more than his head on a plaque.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black, eh?” Malfoy says jovially on Regulus’s first night at Hogwarts. “Well, you’ll find Slytherin works much the same way.” He pauses. “And don’t trust that brother of yours too much. He may be a Black, but he’s not a Slytherin.”

Regulus nods and nods until Malfoy shuts up and goes away. He’s already learned that agreeing makes people leave him alone.

He forgets until the next morning what Malfoy said, exactly, when Sirius comes out of nowhere and sweeps him up in a hug. “I guess someone’s gotta represent the family, ey Reg?”

“Put him down, Black,” Malfoy says coldly, and suddenly there are more wands out than Regulus ever wants pointed at him. Or near him. “He’s a Slytherin now, and you’re just an off-colour Black.”

Sirius backs off, and that hurts more than Malfoy’s words.

 

“Once a Black, always a Black,” Regulus mutters to himself, taking another drink of the potion. It squirms and burns on the way down—that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that he is a Black, not a Death Eater, and he is exacting retribution for the treatment of his family, and maybe also finding redemption for himself.

He doesn’t know anymore.

But Regulus is a Black, and that’s how he plans to meet his end. Stubborn. Proud. And vicious.


End file.
